


RED

by blueeyedmonster



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Mentions of Sex, Red - Freeform, Seasons, Songfic, basically just: what it's like to love matt healy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:46:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueeyedmonster/pseuds/blueeyedmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving him was red.</p>
<p>It was also black, like his clothes and his pictures, and blue like his cotton shirts and purple and green like the sparkle in his eyes; but mostly, mostly it was red.</p>
<p>//</p>
<p>Or: An ode to the one and only Matty Healy</p>
            </blockquote>





	RED

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based on 'RED' by Taylor Swift, or at least the title and the main idea are. It's hella short but I wrote it in maths so ._.

Loving him was red.

 

It was also black, like his clothes and his pictures, and blue like his cotton shirts and purple and green like the sparkle in his eyes; but mostly, mostly it was red.

 

It was a light red in the spring; that time when the women start wearing floral patterns and short dresses that flutter in the wind, when the actual flowers start to bloom, and like the colour you feel when you’re sitting in the grass, his smoke surrounding you like the first glimpse of sunlight this morning; like the colour of his toes when he tears off his socks in the morning and the feathers of the first birds chirping their way into the early fauna, a light glimpse of their shimmer against the sun.

It was a full, deep red in the summer; the way the sun burns down on your skin and the colour of water melons, it was cherries and red lips and most of all the heat in your stomach when you’re a tangled mess under the thin sheets, too hot to bear but not enough to keep you away from him, the colour of the marks that you leave on his skin and the veins that manifest on his neck as he leaves out little puffs of air; the shade of the setting sun when you're both stealing each other's air.

It was a dark red in the fall, like the colour of his wine that he carries around, and like those nearly purple button-ups that he wears but never buttons, it was the kind of bordeaux that his autumn sheets show off, the satin that feels heavy and silky at the same time when he lies down and his breathing evens out; it was the lightning of his lamp that he keeps on his nightstand when he can't sleep and the colour of the pills he keeps hidden because he knows he won't quit.

It was a soft, faint red in the winter, like the colour of his cheeks when the snow surprises him, and the way his knuckles change their shade from the cold, it was the colour of his blood when he’s reckless and the feeling of his jaw line against your heartbeat when he falls asleep; like the colour of his lips when he goes out into the cold and you can't stop staring because it's the only blur of paint on the whole masterpiece; and the button on his karaoke machine that he uses for his winter records.

 

It was also grey, like the shades on his layers, and yellow like his fingernails when he smokes too much and orange and rose like the sun falling down on his skin.

 

But mostly, it was every single shade of red that the world contains, every glimpse of reddish that you might ever find.

 

Loving him was red.

**Author's Note:**

> Lol feel free to comment and if you want to cry with me over Matty then add me on twitter @tommorepublic


End file.
